Once inside the school, Aira spotted her two friends waiting by the lockers.
"See you, Akagi-kun!" She waved with a cute smile that made half the male population around them swoon. Akagi couldn't help but roll his eyes.
"We're in the same class, Aira. We'll literally see each other in five minutes," he said dryly, noting how her friends were already giving him the usual once-over reserved for potential gossip material.
"It's called being polite," she huffed, though he caught the calculated glance she threw over her shoulder as she walked away.
Instead of heading straight to class, Akagi decided to familiarize himself with the school grounds. His new memories might know the layout, but his body needed to remember too.
That's when he suddenly heard the sound of arguing—though "arguing" was putting it mildly.
Rounding the corner, he came upon a scene that looked like it belonged in a completely different genre of manga.
"Like I said," the guy was saying, somehow managing to sound sleazy even with his yakuza-like face, "if ya ain't gonna lend me money... then today's date is off."
Akagi's eyebrows shot up. Was this guy seriously trying to shake down a girl for date money? In broad daylight? In a school? The sheer audacity almost deserved a slow clap.
"HAH?" The girl's response carried enough venom to make a cobra feel threatened.
"Although..." the guy continued, apparently immune to self-preservation instincts, "if you're reasonable and put out instead, that's cool too. Love hotel's on you though."
'Woah... this guy is something else.' Honestly, Akagi was somewhat impressed by the sheer audacity. Usually, you'd have to hang around hostess clubs at 3 AM to hear propositions this shameless. This guy was bringing night-life energy to morning school hours.
The girl's expression shifted from anger to a 'what the actual fuck are you saying' face. What happened next was pure chaos.
"WHOA!" The guy barely had time to yelp as the girl's foot shot toward his face. He managed to block it with his hands.
"YOU LITTLE—" he immediately exploded and kicked back, catching her in the stomach and sending her sprawling to the ground.
'Damn, this guy treats gender equality like it's his religion,' Akagi thought, finding himself weirdly invested in the drama. 'He didn't even hesitate. Equal rights, equal fights taken way too literally.'
"GET OVER YOURSELF! I AM DONE MESSING WITH YOU! YER BROKE, AND YOU WON'T PUT OUT! LIKE I'D GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOU!" the guy roared before storming off.
'Oh come on bro, don't leave now! This was just getting better!' Akagi mentally booed. 'At least let me see one of you get knocked out. I'm Team Girl on this one.'
"FUCK OFF! YOU UNFUNNY MORON! FISH BRAIN! SQUID! OCTOPUS!" The girl shouted after him, her creative insults apparently limited to the seafood section of a restaurant menu.
'Is she trying to insult him or place an order at a sushi bar?' Akagi couldn't help but shake his head. 'Those insults wouldn't even make a kindergartener cry. If she ever played Cod, she'd be absolutely cooked.'
That's when he felt the weight of an irritated glare boring into him. The girl had noticed his presence and looked about as pleased as a cat in a bath.
"Why are you shaking your head at me like you are disappointed, you shithead!" she demanded, her voice carrying the kind of energy that suggested she was ready to start Round 2 with a new opponent.
"I am indeed disappointed," Akagi replied, shaking his head. "Here I was expecting an actual fight, but all I got was one lousy kick and seafood-themed insults. At least use your nails—that's like Girl Fighting 101." He absently rubbed on his arm. "Trust me, I know from experience. Almost lost an arm to infection once."
The girl's eye twitched. "Oh? You want to see some real fighting techniques?" Her voice had that dangerous sweetness that usually preceded violence. "How about a demonstration?"
But her menacing expression quickly deflated. "You know what…leave it, I am way too annoyed to deal with anything now. My first boyfriend and it aint even me who did the dumping, instead I got dumped. How lame is that."
"Quite lame indeed. Need a shoulder to cry on, dumped girl?" Akagi offered sarcastically.
"Fuck off!" She threw up a middle finger at his face before dramatically collapsing onto the ground like a marionette with cut strings.
"You are acting like a manga character."
"I am a manga character." She deadpanned.
"Was... that a fourth wall break?"
"Don't know, don't care."
"Well, this existential crisis has been fun, but class is about to start, so I am leaving." He checked his watch, already hearing the distinct sound of the school bell.
"Wow, you really are a cold bastard, huh?" she said, springing up as if her earlier sadness was all an act. "Not even trying to console a cute girl like me. What happened to being a gentleman these days?"
"We're not in England," he replied dryly, "we're in Japan. So I've got a samurai mindset. And samurais? Well, they're no simps."
"Hymph! Who even are you? I've never seen you around before," she asked, studying his face with unabashed curiosity.
"Have you seen every face around here?" Instead of answering, he questioned back.
"You don't talk straight, do you?" She shot him an annoyed look that somehow managed to be both irritated and amused.
"Fine, fine. Name's Akagi Izanagi, first year, Class A. Your turn." He introduced himself.
"Cool. Me is Momo Ayase, same year, Class B." She tilted her head. "Akagi... that name rings a bell, but like, a really distant, probably-needs-new-batteries kind of bell."
"Story of my life."
"Heh..Funny." She chuckled.
They chatted briefly before parting ways to their respective classes. Entering his classroom, Akagi found it buzzing with energy and gossip forums running everywhere. The epicenter of this social earthquake was, unsurprisingly, Aira's desk, around which orbited a small galaxy of admirers.
Their resident goddess, currently holding court with the ease of a born politician, caught his eye and waved.
'Not only she is a good actor, she is also perceptive, huh' He thought and returned the gesture, causing an immediate ripple effect through the classroom as suddenly a bunch of heads turned to identify this person worthy of Their Highness's acknowledgment.
"Who is he? I've never seen him before!"
"Didn't you see him arriving with Aira-sama in that Rolls Royce?" Someone whispered, chewing his pencil. "Like some kind of shoujo manga male lead...ugh why am I suddenly feeling so pissed."
"Must be some second-generation rich kid," a girl sighed dreamily from a few steps away. "Did you see his uniform? It's the same brand as ours but somehow looks designer on him."
Akagi was dumbfounded, his lips twitching. Bruh… it's literally the same as yours, and it even has a hole in the sleeve, he thought, glancing down at the frayed fabric.
"He looks scary. I am nervous." A meek girl said in a small voice, while covering her eyes with her fingers.
'Ugh…hearing that from a meek girl, I feel hurt.' Akagi clutched his heart painfully.
But the male population of Class A was experiencing what could only be described as a collective aneurysm. Their expressions cycled through the five stages of grief, except all five stages were just different flavors of jealousy.
And at the end, it finally rested on hostility.
"Bet he's never even eaten instant ramen,"
"Is that even supposed to be Flex?"
The hostility in the air was thick enough to spread on toast. Several guys were already forming what they probably thought was an intimidating welcoming so the new guy would learn his lesson and know his place.
That's when the class representative who prided herself on knowing every student's attendance record since middle school, suddenly choked on her water.
"Wait... wait a minute..." She squinted at him, adjusted her large glasses, squinted again, then promptly dropped her bottle. "That's... that's Akagi!"
Her shout immediately took classroom attention one by one they also started connecting the dots and suddenly everyone went so quiet you could hear a paper clip drop.
"Akagi?"
"Like... our Akagi?"
"Occult-obsessed, talks-to-himself, sits-in-the-corner Akagi? And has gas problems?"
I CAN HEAR YOU AND I DONT HAVE GAS PROBLEMS, YOU SHITHEADS!!
Akagi felt pissed. There is nothing more embarrassing than hearing your whole class talking about your gas problems.
"The guy who once tried to convince the science teacher that his homework was eaten by a yokai?"
Each question raised the collective pitch of disbelief.
Someone pulled up last year's class photo on their phone. There, in the corner, barely visible and looking like he was trying to merge with the wall, was unmistakably Akagi – except with hair that seemed to be fighting a losing battle with gravity and glasses thick enough that they covered half his face.
"Everyone, please," Aira's sweet voice took everyone's attention. "This is Akagi-kun. Please don't act like you all don't remember him. It's embarrassing".
This time, however, her words had the opposite effect. The moment "Akagi-kun" left her lips with such familiarity, the male population of Class A experienced what could only be described as a synchronized spiritual death.
Bodies hit the floor like dominoes as boys collapsed into various poses of dramatic despair. It looked less like a classroom and more like a renaissance painting titled "The Betrayal."
"It's over, bros." One guy sprawled across his desk like a tragic hero in his final scene.
"Our goddess... using '-kun' with him..." Another whispered, staring at the ceiling with empty eyes. "The apocalypse is truly upon us."
"First the Rolls Royce, now this?" Someone sobbed into their mathematics textbook. "What's next? They're childhood friends?"
"I should have studied harder," a boy muttered, rocking back and forth. "Mom was right. Rich people really do steal everything, even our goddesses."
"Truly... money is the root of all evil..." Another added philosophically, though he was still checking his wallet hopefully, as if enough pocket change might trigger a similar transformation.
Aira, watching her carefully cultivated group of admirers dissolve into a group therapy session, felt her perfectly maintained facade crack. A bright red blush crept up her neck as the situation spiraled completely out of her control.
"Will you all STOP BEING SO DRAMATIC?" She stood up. "And what's with all this 'goddess' talk? I can hear everything you're saying!"
Meanwhile, Akagi, who had been arranging his textbooks with suspicious attention to detail, finally looked up. "You know," he said conversationally, "for a goddess, you're getting pretty red in the face, Aira-chan. Do you secretly like being called that?"
"Please don't fuel the fire Akagi kun!" she said in a slightly higher tone, then immediately composed herself, though the blush remained.
"EVEN THE WAY SHE GETS ANGRY AT HIM IS CUTE!" wailed someone from the back.
"The rich really do live in a different world..." Another boy nodded sagely while wiping away tears.
The whispers continued again, but with a completely different flavor:
"Did... did he make a deal with something?"
"Maybe he really was telling the truth about yokai..."
"I knew I should have been nicer to him last year!"
Just then, their homeroom teacher walked in, took one look at the scene—half the class on the floor, his model student bright red and flustered, and Akagi sitting quietly with a new hairstyle—and decided some questions were better left unasked.
"Everyone in your seats," she said wearily, already making mental notes to request a raise. "And please, stop treating the floor like your personal fainting couch."
As the class reluctantly returned to some semblance of order, Akagi caught Aira's eye and he playfully winked at her.
She quickly looked away. The last thing she needed was to give the other boys more reason to talk.
— x — X — x —
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